Permanent
by OnceInALifetime
Summary: Nine months. So much can happen in those 272 days – a baby can be born, a best-selling novel can be written, a wedding can be planned. But in nine months, so much can be taken away, too. Nuke fanfic, and therefore slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, I don't own it. Don't sue.**

*****Notes – This is ****not**** a song fic. You don't need to read the lyrics; they are just posted below so you can if you choose to, in order to see where my inspiration came from. Enjoy!**

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**Permanent**

_Is this the moment where I look you in the eye? __  
__Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry __  
__And everything, it will surely change __  
__Even if I tell you I won't go away, today __  
__I'm permanent_

_I know he's living in hell every single day __  
__And so I ask "oh God is there some way for me to take his place?" __  
__And when they say it's all touch and go,__  
__I wish I could make it go away, butt still you say __  
__Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand? __  
__When all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary, rest your head_

- David Cook

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Nine months. So much can happen in those 272 days – a baby can be born, a best-selling novel can be written, or wedding can be planned. But in nine months, so much can be taken away, too.

It took Luke twenty-seven days to process what the doctor's told him. The morning he woke up sobbing was the same morning that Noah was gone, having to work an early shift at Java. Having Noah gone made everything _hurt_ even more, until it felt like someone was reaching a hand into his chest, reaching deep and pulling his heart out before crushing it. He knew that he shouldn't cry, but that knowledge didn't stop the tears from cascading down his cheeks.

On the sixty-third day, Luke woke up to find a chunk of black hair on the pillow beside him, and muffled sobbing echoing from the closed bathroom door. Luke didn't bother knocking on the door; he just ran into the bathroom, yanked the door open, and sank to the linoleum floor beside Noah. When their eyes connected, Luke felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.

Noah had been nothing but calm and in control since he was diagnosed; Luke had tried, he had tried so damn _hard_ to get Noah to talk to him about how he was doing, but Noah refused to open up. It was as if Noah had locked that part of himself away, far away where no one could ever touch it. That's why Luke could barely breathe when he looked into Noah's eyes and saw pure, raw fear.

Looking into Noah's ravaged face, Luke forced himself to keep his calm and controlled visage in place, knowing that it was what Noah needed. He couldn't afford to fall apart; he couldn't let Noah know how fucking terrified he was and scare him even more.

Reaching out, Luke pulled Noah into his arms. Noah's body, which had been stiff as a board despite his crying, instantly melted into Luke's arms. His head fell onto Luke's chest, and he draped a leg over Luke's lap. Adjusting their positions, Luke slid across the floor until his back was pressed to the wall and Noah was fully situated on him.

Luke opened his mouth to talk, before shutting it so tight that his teeth clinked. Abruptly, the significance of this moment hit him. Not just Noah, crying on his lap, but Noah finally admitting that he was sick, sick and not in control. Luke knew that Noah was long overdue for this lapse in emotion, and that talking would just draw Noah back into his shell.

Instead of bringing words - Luke's one constant in life - into that cold bathroom, Luke chose to stroke Noah's hair and spread gentle kisses in it. After all, how could Luke tell Noah that everything would be okay, that everything would be alright? They would both see through the lie.

Eventually, Noah removed his face from Luke's chest and allowed their gazes to connect once again. Staring into those eyes, those piercing blue eyes that were almost black in sorrow and fear, Luke bit his tongue until it bled in order to keep the lump in his throat from morphing into a sob.

Reluctantly breaking their gaze, Luke stood up, pulling Noah with him, and gently kissed him on the lips. Luke felt Noah clutch him, trying to imprint the moment into his memory before slowly releasing him. Knowing Noah better then Noah knew himself, Luke left that bathroom alone, allowing Noah to collect himself and recover from his emotional turmoil.

Seven months. Someone could go through hell in those 209 days, or they could live every day like it was their last. All Luke knew was that when those seven months ended, when that now pale hand grew limp in his and a monitor's beeps slowly lessened in frequency, time ceased to exist. Seven months, seven years, seven centuries; it could never be enough. Someone's life could end in seven months, and yet another's could be born.

"Mr. Snyder? The fertilization was a success. In nine months, Mr. Mayer's child will be born. Would you like to speak to the surrogate mother?"

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated! I apologize for the angst-overload too.**


	2. Seven Years Later

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

**Summary – Takes place seven years after **_**Permanent.**_

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"Dad?" A young child's voice asked quietly, almost soberly. "Who's Noah?"

Luke stiffened, and the papers he had been holding fell out of his hand, floating softly towards the ground. Briefly, countless memories flashed through his mind, flickering too fast to be tangible. Noah, biting the tip of his pen as he worked on a school essay; Noah, suggestively licking a spoon while locking his gaze on Luke; Noah, entwined in the sheets with Luke, laughing hysterically at some lame pun he had just made.

Abruptly, the good memories turned darker – Noah, curled into a ball on his hospital cot, shaking from both a fever and the chills. Noah, with three months left to live, looking so pale and fragile that Luke fears he could break him with one twist of his fingers. Noah, finally at peace with his eyelashes dark against the stark white of his face; the steady hum of a once-beeping machine the only reason Luke knew he was gone.

"Dad?" The voice repeated, sounding tentative and unsure, "I just wanted to know because Aunty Allison and Uncle Casey were talking about a guy named Noah, and they sounded sad and you always said that when people are sad we should try to make them happy, and if Noah is making them sad shouldn't we make Noah make Aunty and Uncle happy?"

The childlike logic almost brought Luke to his knees. At six years old, Troy Noah Snyder was so much like his dad, in both temperament and looks. He was tall for his age, with eyes just a shade darker than Noah's. Due to Noah's insistence that the surrogate mother look like Luke, the messy blonde hair that fell into Troy's eyes came as no surprise to Luke. Troy had his surrogate mother's small nose – something Noah would have been endlessly glad of.

In temperament, however, Troy was so similar to his dad that Luke can't help but wonder if Noah was hiding somewhere, slowly teaching his son his ways of the world. Where Luke was loud, and tended to overreact, Troy had inherited his father's ability to calmly look over a situation before deciding what to do – a trait that even Luke admitted was unusual for a six year old.

The gentle tugging at the hem of Luke's shirt brought him back to reality. Kneeling down, Luke looked into those too-blue eyes, before dropping his gaze back towards the tiled floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but felt his throat close in on him, and tears well up in his eyes. _How do I tell my child that his father died, and the only things I have left to remember him by are my memories and his son?_

Valiantly, Luke swallowed back the tears forming in his eyes before Troy could notice them. Placing his hands on Troy's shoulders, Luke raised his gaze from the floor back to Troy, and felt his entire body tremble. The situation was so backwards from what he had always wanted – instead of him and Noah, telling Troy about their relationship together, it was just him, about to tell his innocent son the worst moments in his life.

"Well, Captain T," Luke feebly joked, using Troy's favorite nickname, "Noah was one of my best friends in the entire world. We used to do everything together! I met him when I was ten whole years older than you, and we were like Grandpa Holden and Grandma Lily."

Luke was about to continue, but Troy abruptly and uncharacteristically cut him off by asking "Then how come I've never met Noah? Grandma and Grandpa are always together. Are you and Noah not friends anymore?"

Luke felt his calm façade crumble, and he ducked his head to prevent Troy from seeing the glistening tears in his eyes. "Troy," Luke asked, trying to give himself time to collect himself, "Do you remember when your great-Grandma Lucinda was sick?" At Troy's slow nod, Luke continued. "Well, the same bad sickness hurt Noah too, buddy. It decided that it didn't want to give Noah back to us, and the angels came and took Noah away." Despite Luke's desperate attempts to keep his voice steady, he felt his body jerk in a small sob, and heard his voice crack towards the end of his sentence.

Keeping his head down, Luke looked out of the corner of his eye to see Troy's face, pursed as if he was thinking hard about something. The expression was so reminiscent of Noah that it took everything Luke had not to just curl into a ball and sob.

One of the first lessons Luke had learned about grief was that it never went away. People lied, and said that it got easier with time; those people were crazy, as far as Luke was concerned. Sure, sometimes Luke could go days at a time, weeks if he was lucky, without crying. But then the smallest, most random thing would strike him hard; ordering Noah's favorite ice cream, seeing an old movie that Noah had badgered him about being an 'American classic', and Luke would hardly be able to see straight for the tears in his eyes.

Sometimes, when Luke was lucky, he would be able to make it home before his sorrow would overtake him. Other times, he wasn't so lucky, and he would barely make it to his car before his entire world shattered anew. Those times were the worst, when he was crying in the front seat of his car, the splash of his tears wetting his leather upholstery. Alone in his car, he never felt more lost, and sometimes he would just wonder _why_ – why bother continuing this half life, this wanting and needing and missing, yet never having. Just as quickly, an image of Troy would flash through his mind, shortly followed by his family. And somehow, that would give Luke the strength to go through another day.

Luke was jerked out of his thoughts when he felt a small hand at his cheek, wiping away a tear he had unconsciously let fall. "Daddy, I'm sorry," Troy said, his voice reflecting his sorrow for upsetting his dad, "I thought that I could make Uncle Casey and Aunty Allison feel better, but now I've made it not better and I made you sad and I'm sorry dad!" Troy's voice sounded apologetic, and Luke hated the fact that his son was blaming himself.

"It's not your fault, Troy," Luke practically whispered, _needing_ his son to understand that Luke loved him, and needed him, and that nothing had ever been Troy's fault. "You did the right thing, asking me about Noah. And bud? One day, I'm going to tell you everything you want to know about Noah. But today, I can't. Thinking about Noah makes Dad sad sometimes, like how you were sad after the angels took Grandma Emma away. Do you understand?" Luke reconnected his gaze with Troy's, hoping that his son would accept his answer, and give Luke time to calm himself.

"Okay, dad," Troy replied, wrapping his small arms around Luke in a hug. "Just don't be sad anymore? I don't like it when you're sad, daddy. It makes me sad."

The sweet, simple words of his son – of _Noah's_ son – caused Luke's disappearing tears to well up again in full force. "Don't worry, Captain T," Luke reassured, injecting fake enthusiasm into his voice and hoping that his bright son wouldn't see through his lie. "I'm fine. Hey! Do you want to go over to Uncle Casey's? I'm sure that you could go play with Amy, if you wanted!"

"Eww!" Troy exclaimed, "She's a girl! Girl's have cooties!" But he ran to get his toys anyways, all the while muttering about how 'ucky' girls were.

Luke anxiously watched Troy until he was sure that he was out of earshot before grabbing his phone and speed-dialing Casey's number.

"Hello?" Casey's voice rang through the telephone line. Hearing his voice, someone who _knew_ Noah, who had cared for him and loved him, caused a lump to rise in Luke's throat, blocking of all speech. "Luke? Man, is that you? I have caller ID… Luke? Luke, answer me. What's up?"

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat, before asking "Hey Case, do you mind if I brought Troy over for a bit? He wants to hang out with Amy." Hoping that Casey didn't notice the wavering of his voice, but knowing that there was no way to hide it from him.

"No problem man! You know that Troy's always welcome here. But what's up with you man? Is something wrong?" Casey's voice broadcasted how concerned he was, even through the telephone line. Luke felt his shoulders shake from repressing his emotions, and he was so close to just confessing everything to Casey, telling him about how damn badly he missed Noah – even seven years later.

Instead, he made up some excuse of how he was fine, and that he would see Casey in half an hour. As soon as he hung up the phone, he heard Troy running up the stairs that led to the basement, hollering about all the different ways he was going to torture poor Amy. Luke cracked a weak smile, knowing how close the two kids were, despite their pretending, and grabbed his car keys to start his car up.

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Luke rang the doorbell, impatiently waiting for someone to answer the door. Hearing an "I'm coming, I'm coming!" echo through the house, Luke couldn't stop the weak smile from briefly appearing on his face. _That's Casey for you._

The second the door opened, Troy moved from behind Luke to jump onto Casey. "Uncle Casey!" he squealed, sounding every inch like the six year old he was. Casey reached down, scooped him up, and spun him around, much to Troy's delight.

"Troy!" Casey bellowed, stepping over the threshold before setting him down. "How are you doing, bud?"

Troy yelled "Fine!" before running through the house, presumably searching for Amy.

"Man, you've got one kid on your hands," Casey commented casually, before turning to look Luke in the eyes. "Shit man, what's wrong?"

Luke stood silently, staring at Casey's warm, open face. He tried to hold onto his control, but vaguely felt it slipping out of his grasp. He lasted a total of ten seconds before falling into Casey's open arms, feeling his body convulse the moment those strong arms wrapped around him.

He barely noticed Casey soothingly rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense babble into his ear. All he knew was how much everything _hurt_, and how he wanted to go back before all of this started and be with Noah, be with Noah forever. Sobs painfully made their way out of his body, coming from somewhere too deep within himself to contemplate.

Luke held onto Casey as if he was dangling on the edge of a cliff, and Casey was the rope that was preventing him from falling down, never to return. He felt Casey slowly shuffling them somewhere – his room, maybe? – but couldn't find the energy to care.

Eventually, they arrived in Casey's room. Casey gently sat Luke down on the bed before reaching over and locking the door. Slowly, approaching Luke like a wild horse who would bolt in a heartbeat, Casey made his way over to Luke before sitting down on the bed next to him.

"Luke… what happened?" Casey asked, somewhat scared to hear what Luke was going to say. The last time Casey had seen Luke this upset was three years ago, when he had found a box of Noah's possessions. The contents of them had torn Luke up, and it had been days before he had been able to see anyone without crying.

Luke drew in a shaky breath before answering "Case… Troy asked me who Noah was today." Hearing Casey's sharp intake of breath, Luke found that he couldn't stop speaking. "He asked me who he was and I wanted to tell him but I couldn't, because how do you tell a child that their father is _dead_, and I miss him Case, I miss him so much that sometimes it feels like I'm empty inside. And I know that Noah wouldn't want that, but how do I stop it? How do I stop the missing and the wanting, and how can I want to stop that? I don't to forget Noah – never. So why do I feel like I would do anything to get rid of the pain. Why, Case? Why?" Luke's voice rose as he rambled on until it broke.

Casey understood that Luke was asking a lot more than his question implied, and found that he had no response. No words of wisdom, no answer to make Luke feel better, and no cure for his pain. So instead, he did all he could. He pulled Luke back into his arms, and let him sob out everything onto his broad shoulders.

Eventually, Luke pulled his face out of Casey's shoulder, only to look up and see hidden pain in Casey's ice blue eyes. Feeling even worse for causing his best friend pain, Luke began to withdraw into himself.

Casey recognized the signs of Luke retreating into his shell, and shook his shoulder harshly. "Luke! Don't you dare do that to us. We're here for you, we're here for you no matter what, okay?"

The words almost caused Luke to fall apart again, but instead he curled his hands into fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand until he broke the skin. The sting of pain helped him focus, and he calmed down enough to look Casey back in the eyes.

"I know Casey, and I appreciate it; really, I do. But I just miss him so much, you know? I know it was over seven years ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I still feel like I am holding his hand, telling him that he can stop fighting and let go of the pain, even though everything in me is crying out for him to hold on. How can I let that go?" Luke whispers, his eyes glazed as he relives memories in the past. "How can I finally say goodbye, and let him be at peace?"

Casey set his hand on Luke's shoulder, giving him much-needed contact before answering. "You just have to live for him, Luke. That's all you can do; live. Just remember the good moments you had with him, and think of the good ones you have now. Remember Troy; think of how much he loves you. One day, you will be happy again, and be able to look back at your memories of Noah and smile. I promise you that, Luke."

"How can you be sure?" Luke asked, and the vulnerability in his voice ripped through Casey like a dagger. "How can you promise something like that?"

"Because, Luke," Casey replied carefully, picking his words, "It's what Noah would want. And I know you would do anything for him. So, you need to do this. I'm not telling you that you have to forget him, or just let it all go – just start to live for _you_, and not for his memories, okay?" Tilting Luke's chin up, Casey looked into his eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise," Luke said, the vow making him feel both guiltier and lighter, as if someone lifted a weight off of his shoulders. "And Case? Thank you. I don't know if I would have gotten through this without you."

Casey let out a small laugh and patted Luke on the back. "Luke, you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. But all the same, you know that you never have to thank me for being your friend."

Luke stood up, walking over to the mirror adjacent to the bedroom door and wiping away his tears. He studied his face carefully, noticing his puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Rubbing his face roughly with his hands, he walked over to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, hoping to clear it of his crying jag.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Casey was watching him anxiously. "I'm okay man," Luke reassured him, "I'll be fine. Now, let's go find our kids, alright?"

Casey caught the hidden plea in Luke's seemingly innocent question, asking him to forget about his breakdown. Not wanting to push Luke further, Casey nodded his head slightly before walking out of the bedroom.

Glancing one last time at the mirror, Luke schooled his face into a smile before stepping out into the hallway, ready to face Troy and Amy. Hoping that one day, Casey's promise would come true, and he could be happy – even with Noah gone.

_Noah, I love you. But I can't keep living like this. Please, please send me a sign that it's okay to let you go?_

A child's laugh broke into his thoughts before a small body crashed into him, arms wrapping around his waist. With an ironic smile, Luke scooped Troy up for a hug, knowing that Noah couldn't have been blunter with his message if he had tried.

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